


I want to get off Mr. Torres' Wild Ride

by saeriibon



Category: Ace Combat
Genre: (kind of an oc/self-insert/reader?), stowaway character uses gender neutral pronouns so they can be whoever you want them to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saeriibon/pseuds/saeriibon
Summary: what if we kissed on the alicorn... and we were both boys 😳haha jk...... unless? 😏(This is a misleading summary; there is no kissing. This also sounds like a crack fic; it is not.)A more accurate summary would be: What if someone got manipulated into joining a submarine death cult? That's it, that's the fic.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	I want to get off Mr. Torres' Wild Ride

Dark. Quiet.

A lone figure steadied their breathing after a few hours of being jostled about in a wooden crate.

Traveling around Usea wasn't easy, especially now given that its marred landscape was embroiled in the war between Osea and Erusea.

They sighed.

_'All I wanted was to live a quiet and simple life… Now I'm stuck acting stowaway aboard… Where am I exactly?'_

They tentatively poked their head out and scanned their surroundings.

They were placed in the corner of a large, dimly lit room, filled with… planes? Oh, shit.

They slumped back down and pinched the bridge of their nose.

' _Don't tell me I managed to stowaway on an aircraft carrier. Of all the places…'_

_Gurgle._

_'Oh, right. Food.'_

They carefully took out a piece of jerky from their pockets, gingerly unwrapping it from its plastic wrapper, although it was difficult to keep quiet as their hunger pains urged them to hurry up already. They wondered what was worse, starving to death in a box or getting killed for trespassing on a military vessel, as they bit into the tough and flavorless meat.

As they ate, they heard footsteps echo throughout the hangar, coupled with a few spoken phrases of… They strained their ear.

Erusean?

Great, just great. Trapped on an Erusean aircraft carrier. They patted their pockets. Turns out that was their last bit of jerky too. Great.

 _'Maybe if I pretend to be some hapless civilian they'll let me off easy. Wait, how much Erusean do I even know? My father was half-Erusean, but all he really taught was "je t'aime avec tout mon coeur," which definitely will_ not _help me in this situation. Well, it's not like I've been discovered_ yet _so… Argh, it'll make no difference whether I'm found now or later! And then there’s the matter of…'_

_Groan._

A much louder and more violent rumble escaped from their stomach into the air of the cramped hiding space. At least those voices sounded like they were on the opposite end of the hangar… right?

The lid of the crate popped open with a clatter, a pair of hands reaching to hoist the stowaway upwards while another kept a pistol trained on their head.

Given their previous arrangements, they really had no strength to fight back, allowing their new captor to manhandle them onto the floor. Besides that point, it wouldn't do them any favors to put up a fight now. Might as well play along and get an easier sentence.

The man with the gun was shouting something while the one who held them down seemed to be talking more directly towards them, not that they could make heads or tails of their words.

"I am not your enemy," they said slowly, albeit in Osean. Osean itself was commonly spoken in Usea, but part of them was filled with a fear that these people could be Erusean nationalists and off them here and now.

Thankfully, the man holding them down blinked before replying in Osean, "We are going to take you in for questioning. Don't resist."

They sighed, "Wasn't planning on it."

After getting handcuffed and led by the pair who found them earlier through a maze-like interior unbefitting of a typical aircraft carrier, they were brought before a door with a plaque reading, _Cabine de Grand Luxe_.

The one with a gun knocked on the door, exchanging a few brief words with whoever was on the other side.

The door was opened by a young man, maybe no older than the stowaway themselves, dressed in a crisp, Erusean naval uniform. He almost looked surprised before gesturing for the group to enter.

 _'Wow… This place looks like a fancy meeting room in an old hotel or something.'_ The stowaway mused to themselves as they took in this new room whose design was a stark contrast from the dark, industrial architecture of the corridors they had passed through. 

The muzzle of the pistol in their back prodded them into remembering why they were here in the first place as they were sat at one end of the table that occupied the center of the room. The young man waved away their two "companions" and took a seat at the other end of the table, beside an older man whose uniform was far more decorated than his. He held himself with an air of composure and confidence as dark, green eyes seemed to lazily analyze the stowaway brought before him.

 _'This must be… the captain,'_ they instinctively gulped and slowly straightened themselves up in their seat.

The captain chuckled a little, either amused at the display or trying to lighten the tense mood that fell over the stateroom. "In all my years of service, you are certainly a first," he leaned forwards and steepled his fingers, speaking in perfect Osean, "Tell me, why are you on this vessel?"

The stowaway gulped again, "I… I'm just a traveller, really. Uh, a displaced person if you want to be specific. I'm sure you're aware about, well, the war… I mean I don't want to assume anything, but-" Their words were cut short by a lifted hand from the captain.

"It seems this meaningless war has taken something from you as well," his deep voice carried a sort of sympathy with it, "There are many of my subordinates who have lost more than just their homes in these past few months..."

The young man beside him seemed to be writing down something, a log of this interrogation perhaps? He offered his own look of pity towards the stowaway before continuing to write.

"But, you don't seem to be Erusean… And it wouldn't be good for either of us if you were to be, say, an Osean spy merely posing as an ignorant refugee, no?"

The stowaway felt a cold shiver run up their spine, “I-it’s not like I have any evidence to prove myself otherwise. All I have is my word, s-sir. I’m not a spy, honest,” they lifted their hands, still in handcuffs. “Y-you seem like a, uh, nice person… Maybe you can let me go and we can pretend like this never happened? All I really did was hide in a box anyways.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, punctuated by the scratching of a pen against paper. As the stowaway stared down the captain, they noticed a strange sort of emptiness in his eyes, and when the captain smiled again, that emptiness did not disappear, earning another shiver down their spine.

“Turning you in to the Erusean authorities would be a… wasted opportunity. The same can be said of letting you go as well.”

“Captain?” The younger man finally spoke, apprehensive curiosity lacing his tone.

“W-what do you mean?” Something about this whole ordeal didn’t seem right, the stowaway realized as they watched the captain rise from his seat and slowly stepped around the table to where they were sitting, akin to a shark circling its prey. A firm hand clasped on their shoulder, an action that would have been reassuring in any other circumstance, but all it did was make the pit in their stomach grow larger.

“No home, no country. All alone, it seems…” The captain spoke as if to himself. “How would it feel to join a cause far greater than all of that?” He leaned in to practically whisper in the stowaway’s ear. “I can easily give you the food, shelter, and sense of belonging and purpose that you are without. All I ask for in return is a little... cooperation.”

As if on cue, the stowaway’s stomach growled again, already voicing its decision on the matter. They blinked and tried to focus on breathing, realizing they had been holding their breath for half of the conversation. Part of them told themselves that whatever this man was actually offering was dangerous, while another part contained a slightly morbid fascination towards his words. It’s not like they had anything to lose now. Still… “What if I refuse?” they tested. The hand on their shoulder tightened slightly.

The captain’s voice took on a more terse quality as he lowly spoke into their ear, “While I respect your freedom to choose, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He straightened up again to speak more loudly, “Unless it is your wish to die now, it would be better to fulfill it by doing something more meaningful, isn’t that right, Command Duty Officer?” He tilted his body towards the younger man at the other end of the table who was startled a little at the sudden attention.

“Y-yes, captain,” he replied hesitantly.

The captain smiled again and focused on the stowaway once more, “So what will it be?”

The stowaway mused, _‘It’s not like I have much of a choice… If I accept now, maybe there will be a chance to escape later on._ ’ “F-fine. I’ll cooperate,” they spoke a bit more begrudgingly than intended, regretting it as they felt the hand warningly squeeze their shoulder.

“Excellent,” the captain started, finally pulling his hand back, “Now, let us start from the beginning, shall we? I am Matias Torres, captain of the _Alicorn_ , the ship you managed to sneak onto,” there was a hint of malice as he made that last point, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, “And you are…?”

The stowaway swallowed the lump in their throat, painfully aware of how dry it was as they mustered up the courage to speak to the imposing man before them, “M-my name is…”

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna fuck this man so bad it makes me look stupid  
> despite that fact there is no smut here (yet *coughs*)  
> er ah uh...  
> i have nothing else to say other than that i'm trying to get back into the groove of writing again because i think that part of me has been dead for like 3 months idk time is meaningless


End file.
